Alpha Centauri
by Murr-Quan Lord 2
Summary: Part One of the Cocytan Trilogy. OPTIONAL READING! No Humans or Mobians featured. But if you've ever wondered what kind of backstory these aliens have, here's your chance to find out as they visit the Mimic homeworld...


Alpha Centauri

by Jared Spurbeck, Murr-Quan Lord #2

LEGAL NOTICE: The Mimics are copyrighted by Jared Spurbeck. The Cocytans are copyrighted by Lucasarts. Have you hugged a Penguin today?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is intended to take place in the NetRaptor Sonic universe, most of it quite some time before any other stories set therein.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: The title is derived from the computer game "Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri", by Firaxis. Several concepts and storyline elements are also derived from it, but I sincerely doubt that familiarity with the game will help anyone in figuring out very much of the plot.

DISCLAIMER: There are absolutely NO human or Mobian characters featured in this story.

And, finally...

A NOTE ABOUT THE COCYTAN LIFECYCLE AND SOCIETY: These guys live for a really, really long time. For their first thirty (Cocytan) years they are considered juveniles and raised and trained by parents; another thirty years after that they work co-operatively with members of the same gender in units of three called, predictably enough, triads.

At sixty years of age they are considered mature, which designation has something to do with how the average Cocytan does not reach adolescence until that age. After this point they work singly, and are referred to as Talents. (In terms of general competence, as well as social respectability, one Talent is considered equivalent to any one triad.) Each Talent or triad chooses a "corporate" to work within, though individual Cocytans are free to switch between corporates or even triads.

Technically speaking their economy is free-market, though they are so co-operative that it is sometimes very difficult to tell the difference between their Federation and a Unified society (Klackons, Bynars, Penguins, etc.).

Religiously they tend to be athestic. They attribute all life to "The Unknown Creator", and assume that it consists of a vastly more advanced, though still quite temporal, civilization. Many of their contemporary stories are written according to what could loosely be called a Humanist ethic, and encourage them to seek power and immortality through technological development. An entire branch of their science, Ethical Calculus, attempts to define proper moral conduct purely through experimentation and empirical evidence; results so far have been inconclusive, as they vary widely depending on values assigned to certain variables (the proper values of which have so far eluded measurement).

One of their obsessions is gaining knowledge, and they tend to be very happy whenever they are permitted to work with information. One of their corporates centers its existence around capturing representatives of other races in order to catalogue and experiment with their genes; they may be responsible for certain "alien abduction" stories reported during the twentieth century on Earth and the twenty-first century on Mobius. While this corporate's activities are technically illegal, many collectors nevertheless procure their services. Cocytan authorities are exceedingly frustrated by the situation.

*** 1896 AD ***

All three members of the Second Triad stood around the projector, staring into its screen. Working on one of the most remote islands on the planet had its advantages every now and then, and this was one of them: a beautiful, translucent, crystalline starship was descending into the atmosphere and settling down in its appointed landing spot. Another one of their probes, bringing with it new life and new data for cultural interchange.

Who had triggered it this time? What new beings were sufficiently advanced to activate the return mechanisms? Often those transported in that manner were highly disoriented, sometimes angry or afraid... lesser races were like that, somehow. Already the Fifteenth Triad and several of the upper-level Talents were probably being readied for first contact.

The triad's First wished that he could be there in person. The automated probes refracted most of the EM spectrum in a cascade of crystalline beauty as they landed and dissolved, but only the bare light was transmitted through the projector.

However, none of the three needed to be able to perceive an infrared signature to be able to tell what sort of lifeform was standing there on the podium after the probe's dissolution. Wings raised in surprise; the entity was perhaps nine or ten feet tall, covered in a sort of feathery fur. A wispy tail and two large, hoof-like feet gave its lower half an almost equine appearance, while its large, powerful arms terminated in claws of semi-pliable cartilage. A set of six wings, tiny and useless for flight, lay in back of a smallish head with a flap on top that was used for speaking and another in front for eating.

Combining avian and mammalian characteristics, it almost looked like a griffin. Later, the humans would call it a Cocytan; in short, it was another member of their own race.

The First pondered the image, the lifeform depicted thereon looking about itself in what looked like muted curiosity. "Now this is certainly odd."

"Unusual," the Second pointed out.

"Weird," the Third noted.

Six sets of claws clicked once in mutual agreement, and together they headed for the lift. This was important enough to attend to personally.

***

Several hours later the mystery Cocytan was in isolation, the same dull expression on its face. In that entire time it had not spoken, and it didn't look like it was planning to do so anytime in the immediate future. An octagonal window, every angle crafted precisely, permitted a view into the chamber; other than that and a few doors, the grayish hallway outside was featureless.

A psychology Talent was present with the Second Triad, and the group's First spoke to him. "What is the trouble with this one? Why won't he talk? For that matter, why was he on one of our messenger probes in the first place?"

Wings briefly stretched outward, as if the Talent were leisurely pondering the situation. "In answer to your first two queries, there seems to be some sort of parasitic organism attached to his brain stem. No... to say that it is embedded in the stem would be more precise. I think that it feeds off of neural energy; we will likely know more once it is extracted."

Eyes widened across the triad, much to the Talent's amusement. "Don't worry!" A claw waved dismissively. "It shouldn't be too much trouble to remove. He'll be alright. It looks like he's had some vacuum exposure as well, but it doesn't seem to have been too much. As to your third question, I'm not quite sure why he's here."

The First thought about it, and then clicked his claws in the direction of his two associates. "Input?"

"Ask him if we've sent any expeditions to... whatever the system was," the Third suggested.

The First repeated the question as procedure demanded, and the Talent patiently responded. "The Alpha Centauri system. No, we haven't sent any manned expeditions there, and neither have any other corporates. As near as I can tell, anyway. I already checked the databases."

"Then what was he doing there?"

"That's what I'd like to know. Once the parasite is removed, I'm sure we'll have all the answers we need."

***

The secondary control room was a perfect dodecahedron, every one of its twelve sides a stereoscopic imager of equally perfect resolution, save for the panel in which was embedded the door and several controls. At the time their surfaces were no longer visible as they gave the impression of being on a small island, surrounded by a tranquil, nearly purple sea. If one were to forget the feel of plastic underfoot where there appeared to be sand, the illusion was thoroughly convincing. Such environments were calming, pleasant, and peaceful... all the better for entertaining company.

Said company consisted of the Primary Triad, three other Cocytans wearing thin tunics. Their golden fur was not considered quite as fashionable as the pure, downy whiteness covering those of the Second Triad - all of them brothers - but it gave them a sort of regal bearing, the First thought. Appropriate, considering their position in the administrative hierarchy.

One of the others stepped forward and addressed them in a commanding, albeit feminine voice. "The Un-named One is dead."

The First blinked. "How?"

"As soon as the parasite was removed he ceased to function. It seemed to have subsumed several important parts of his nervous system; he died shortly after its removal. Incidentally, the creature itself is still alive and in containment," she noted with disgust.

He lowered his head briefly, out of respect to the deceased. "What would you have us do now?"

"You are to follow his path in reverse and investigate the system in person."

The Second spoke up; between triad youngsters it was permissible to communicate directly. "Pardon me, but are you quite sure of the wisdom of committing our corporate's Second Triad to such a potentially dangerous task?"

She responded. "We are aware of the possible dangers, and you will be equipped accordingly. No primitive creatures are capable of interfering with those properly outfitted. In addition," and she gave a name of twenty-one syllables, "will be accompanying you. He is one of the leading Talents in the field of xenobiology."

Several more pieces of data were exchanged; the time and date of their departure (as soon as possible), among others. A formal good-bye was issued, and as soon as the door sealed behind the Primary Triad all those remaining began to speak.

"This is a horrible idea," the First pointed out.

"Bad," the Third agreed.

The Second grated his claws in disapproval. "They wouldn't assign us any task that we weren't capable of accomplishing. That un-named person probably ran off from his triad, or otherwise did something equally stupid. Believe me, if we can control the weather a few little parasites shouldn't be anything to worry about."

The First considered the other's words. "At the very least, we would do well to exercise caution. There are still a lot of undefined variables in this equation."

Claws clicked in concurrence.

Part One

---------

Their spacecraft lifted off from the gray, dusty surface of Alpha Centauri's second planet, the vehicle's brownish hull changing into a translucent crystal of increasingly complex geometry. Ultraviolet rays and a dozen other frequencies of radiation cascaded over, around, and through it in a dazzling light show which the First was finally privy to. Unfortunately, the spacecraft was not supposed to be leaving. Not only that, they weren't on it. Both factors detracted noticeably from his delight.

In their huge, mechanized life-support suits he and the rest of the triad would have been downright impressive in almost any other situation. But not quite then. The First observed signs of indecision, even fear, through the visors of the other suits. Oh, now they were looking to him... what was he supposed to do? What COULD he do? He tried to hail the starship on his transmitter, though the effort was certainly futile. The radio waves were scattered just as easily as any others.

"I thought the Talent was going to join us outside in a moment." Uncertainty manifested itself in the Second's voice.

"That's what he said," the Third agreed.

"Maybe something came up."

"But what?", the First pondered aloud. A moment of thought, and then he clicked his mechanized claws, the sound all but lost in the almost nonexistent atmosphere. "Hypotheses, anyone?"

The Second pondered the dilemma. "Remember that un-named fellow? Perhaps the Talent found other people here, and decided to greet them."

"Who? And why not tell us, first?"

"Maybe they were in trouble. Maybe he needed to respond immediately. Maybe they don't have adequate survival equipment, like the un-named one."

"Actually," the Third pointed out, "we should be able to survive for at least a few minutes in a vacuum. Unlike the lesser races." There wasn't even the slightest hint of superiority in his voice; this was something that they all accepted as scientific fact.

A moment or two passed. "Perhaps," said the First, "he left because HE was in danger."

"Which means," concluded the Second, "that WE are likely in the same danger right now."

All three instantly became more alert, and they backed up against each other as their arm-mounted lights swept the vicinity. But nothing revealed itself save for the cratered, rocky landscape, and no sounds were heard except for their own anxious breathing.

"Do either of you see anything?", he queried. Both responded in the negative, and their stances were slowly relaxed.

"Now what?"

The Third called up a few statistics from his own memory. "The suits should be able to handle all life support-related tasks for at least twenty-four-hundred millicycles." About three days, in human nomenclature. "I suggest we wait a little while for him to come back." And hopefully, the First thought, the hypothetical danger would not decide to manifest itself, as they were completely unarmed.

***

Time passed; it seemed like an interminable wait. And, the First thought, it just might literally be so. Perhaps that Talent actually wasn't planning on returning. But why?

The experience would have been fantastically boring under normal circumstances, but in this case anxiety easily replaced boredom. And the almost-perfect silence only contributed. Deactivating his transmitter he nervously tried singing, talking to himself, anything to keep his mind off of their situation. Somehow he managed to whittle away an hour or two in that manner, but at last he decided that he would go crazy if he continued to sit still.

Standing up, he turned to address the others. "I can't see how this is getting us anywhere. At this point, we may as well move on."

The Third spoke up. "What if he comes back?"

To this, the Second responded. "We'll leave an emergency beacon here, and every so often along the way."

"How many do we have, and what sort of range do they have?"

This took him a little while to calculate, and the First interrupted to quote from the instructions to a beacon he had retrieved from its compartment. "Their range is quite long; we shouldn't have to plant a new one all that often. And I have three, so if you're both properly equipped we should have nine between us."

They checked, and nodded in verification. "Good. Leave a beacon, and let's be going."

"But where to?", the Second asked.

All three looked around. "There." The First indicated a large, seemingly rocky prominence in the distance. "I'm sure that it will be just as good a destination as any."

Several hours passed after they set out on their way. The task of walking was almost completely turned over to the suits' motors; they were certainly strong, but it took a lot of energy to move their five-hundred-pound bulks. And, with only minimal rations stored in the suits, they reasoned that if they weren't short on energy they would be soon.

The First had lost track of time, and began to nod off as they marched into the night - or what would be night at home, while this planet's sun continued to shine brightly. But he was abruptly awakened as his suit tripped and fell, and the other two pulled him back to his feet.

"What... what happened?" But he looked down, and there was the answer: they were all knee-deep in a fine, brownish dust, with almost the consistency of water. The powdery substance covered acres of land, stretching off into the distance.

"Oh, this is just wonderful. How do we cross this?" They stepped back onto the "shore" of the dusty "sea" as he spoke.

"Maybe it's not too deep to cross directly. At any rate, I don't think we should be worrying about that right now," the Second suggested. "It's almost midnight. We really should be resting." And so the three lay themselves down on the rocky surface and tried to go to sleep.

Somehow it didn't seem right to the First. He'd gone camping before; they all had, at least once or twice, back in their pre-triad days. Making a campsite was supposed to involve acquiring heat and shelter, storing the food properly... here, all three elements were contained in the suits, and all that remained to be done was setting oneself down on the ground and going to sleep.

Too bad it was so difficult to get to sleep. A thousand childhood fears returned as he realized that he would not be able to hear anything approaching - might detect vibrations through the ground, if he was lucky - and so he kept sitting back up to look around, constantly on guard for the imagined terrors. He knew he should be calmer; they were all children, only forty years old or thereabouts, but the other two looked up to him. He had to set the example.

The Second spoke up. "Anxiety is interfering with my ability to rest." The First understood perfectly.

Next, the Third's somewhat timid voice was audible over the speakers. "Perhaps someone would like to initiate a discussion, briefly? Or relate a narrative?" Storytelling. That was what they'd been missing.

"Hmm..." The First thought out loud. In his worn-out state it was exceedingly difficult to come up with any sort of coherent speech, let alone a story. "Does anyone remember when a probe returned from the Delta Pavonis system?"

"Yes. Bipedal, sentient life. Dozens of subspecies, four of which were represented in the probe."

The Second chimed in. "I'm surprised the gene traders haven't already pounced on the opportunity. Imagine the wealth of genetic data!"

"Not to mention," the First continued, "that such a phenomenon lends further support to the Theory of Creation. Whether or not it was the same unknown entity responsible for our existence, SOMETHING has to have made all those subspecies. Or otherwise modified the genes of other lifeforms. I don't care what the fringe adherents of Chaotic Generation say; there are creative forces more advanced than ourselves at work in the universe.

He thought that he saw a mechanical claw raised and clicked several times in the air. This was a common topic of discussion with other triads, and for some reason his associates never seemed to tire of hearing his refutations.

The discussion continued for a few minutes more, and provided a welcome distraction from their prior uneasiness. Within a short while fatigue began to replace it, and the three were soon asleep.

***

*hello*

What? Who are you? Where am I?

*i am ME. you are YOU. we are both HERE. it is NOT important. now PLEASE do not worry. i want to LEARN. i LIKE you.*

But who are you? Tell me about yourself.

*it is NOT important. i am NOT important. YOU are important. i LIKE you. tell me about YOURself.*

Well... I am very curious. Which means that I want to know more.

*that is GOOD. i LIKE knowing more. i LIKE absorbing new data. please provide MORE.*

Specifically, I would like to know more about you. Or, for that matter, what in the world is going on.

*i ALREADY said. it is NOT important. i am NOT important. i am NOTHING. i am EMPTY. i do not WANT to be empty. i WANT more data. please provide MORE. i have so LITTLE to give you anyhow.*

Well... I'm the First in my triad, which means that I co-ordinate our discussion. Between the members of the triad, and with those outside it.

*YES. i KNOW that. that is WHY i am speaking to you.*

But how did you know that?

*i do not know HOW. it is NOT important. PLEASE continue.*

We are a very advanced species; the most advanced in the known universe. We construct beautiful, crystalline starships and buildings.

*that is GOOD. i LIKE beautiful things. TELL me about them.*

Well-

Part Two

---------

He awoke as his suit was shaken gently, and the Second's voice was heard over his transmitter. "First? Please awaken. You've been asleep for at least three hundred millicycles already."

Still somewhat drowsy, he pulled himself back up to a standing position. The others were standing nearby; it looked as though they'd been waiting for him. "I suppose we should resume our course about now?", he suggested, and they all complied. There was no need for a meal of any sort; the suits provided them with nutrients and regulated all metabolic activity. Another thing that didn't seem quite right.

It was beginning to sink in that it was unlikely that the spacecraft would ever return, which, in his opinion, firmly placed them in a hopeless situation. And while their analytical minds were wonderful for problem-solving, they tended to break down when confronted with hopeless situations. He could see it in their eyes. They'd given up already; the only reason they were continuing was because he insisted.

But why did he insist? he wondered. What point was there? The last night's dream returned to him in perfect clarity. Perhaps it had been a delusion, perhaps it had been some sort of as-yet-inexplicable phenomenon. Either way, he wanted to find out more. Preferably before their suits' supplies were depleted.

The dusty "lake" was circumnavigated altogether; it was vastly too deep, even for those of their size, and wading through it was extremely difficult. Fortunately, it was not particularly large, and the detour was minimal.

For quite some time they traveled in silence. Cocytans were not particularly social creatures in the best of circumstances, and certainly not in their situation. The First pondered what his last words would be, but eventually deemed the matter irrelevant; nobody who would survive was around to record them. And it wasn't like he had anything particularly profound to say anyway.

The distant peak gradually increased in relative size after many hours of suit-assisted walking and silent introspection. And the closer the First got, the more interested he became. It didn't look like a rock anymore; it looked more like an immense, grayish plant, hundreds of feet tall. No... more like a fungus, or at least the aboveground portion thereof. Even the other two started to show signs of curiosity, and handheld scanners were brought from their compartments and swept over the tower as they got within range.

Their curiosity quickly turned to fear as they got up next to it. Dozens of tiny, wriggling masses of tentacles which bore a remarkable resemblance to the neural parasite were attached to it. But the First reassured the others; those facing death have little to fear. Besides, as he noted, the creatures stopped writhing altogether anytime they came close.

"What do you suppose it is?", the Second queried.

The First thought the question over. "It almost reminds me of a ter'byum pod." Some sort of silicon-based, somewhat fungus-like infestation, which was known to cause immense difficulties on other worlds as it consumed any organic matter on their surfaces.

The others edged away from it, at this. "That would explain a lot," the Second noted. "Perhaps this is a dead world. It must have already eaten everything."

"No," the First reassured them. "We would have noticed it draining our energy. This is... different. Any time I get near it, it seems to almost radiate contentedness."

"A lure," the Second suggested.

"So it can eat us," the Third continued.

"I'm not sure. It seems familiar... perhaps it is the same entity that I was conversing with, last night."

The Second gave him the Cocytan equivalent of a very quizzical look. "What are you talking about?"

"I dreamed that I was carrying on a conversation. Sort of. The other participant was very eccentric. But... she?... didn't seem very threatening at all. Kept asking questions, wanted to know more about us."

All three of them pondered this for a moment. The First stepped away this time, to make sure that the nearly tangible waves of contentedness did not interfere with his decision-making.

The Second finally spoke up. "We should attempt to probe this structure. I can prepare a few teams of scientific nanites for the task."

"Or," the Third suggested, "We might make more progress if you tried to go back to sleep and talk to it again."

"Then we'll do both. I'll attempt to communicate with it, and the two of you try to gather what information you can." Once again, claws were clicked in the air to signify their mutual agreement. And with the administration of a sedative from the suit's medical repository, he was soon asleep.

***

*hello again*

Um... yes, greetings.

*please provide more information now*

Actually, I was hoping that you could tell me a little about yourself this time.

*WHY is that?*

Well... on my planet, conversations involve both parties exchanging information. So it is only proper that you tell me about yourself as well.

*i do not WANT a conversation. i do not WANT a dialogue. i want a MONOlogue. PROVIDE information please.*

But we need more information. Our nanites are currently attempting to find out more.

*YES. i KNOW that. they are FUNNY creatures. AMUSING toys. do you PLAY with them often?*

We use them to probe things, to find out about them.

*of COURSE. DO so if you like. just PLEASE provide more information.*

[sigh] Well, we were sent to investigate this planet.

*that is GOOD. i LIKE visitors. please STAY awhile.*

That we will definitely be doing. It is not a pleasant thought.

*WHY is that?*

Because we are incapable of leaving.

*WHY is that?*

Because we no longer have access to a spacecraft. Our Talent ran off with it, for what reason I do not know.

*you are DISPLEASED. this is a BAD thing. do NOT worry. you can STAY here. i LIKE visitors.*

Unfortunately, we still won't be staying here very long.

*WHY is that?*

Because we are running out of life support materials. Without them, we will die very shortly.

*you will CEASE to exist? IN the physical realm? this is a BAD thing. do NOT worry. i will HELP you. and then you will be HAPPY. and you will STAY here as long as you want.*

What do you mean?

***

He awoke gradually, all sensations dulled by the sedatives. Vision heavily blurred; everything was a blur of unrecognizable color. He was in pain, he knew that much, but very little specific data manifested itself. It seemed as though he were being stung by insects all across his torso; it occurred to him to be glad that he was too incoherent for it to hurt very much at all.

Then he was moving, being lifted to his feet and dragged backwards. He said something; he wasn't sure what. There were a dozen small impacts across his suit, and the pain lessened. Finally, he saw a sort of greenish glow outside his visor...

Part Three

----------

The First was immediately returned to full coherence, quickly regaining his balance and standing on his own. Myriad cuts and tears, both in his hide and his suit, sealed themselves under the influence of a billion nanites. He looked around; the other two had been dragging him by his arms, but had released him as the microscopic biomachines took effect. The Second still held the greenish fragments of the sheath in which they had been contained, which dissolved as they were no longer needed.

"Are you alright?" The Third sounded worried.

He bobbed his head up and down slightly in a pseudo-avian nod. "Yes. Why did you use one of the life crystals? What went wrong?"

It was the Second who answered. "A little while after you went to sleep, those parasites just... jumped on you! Started hacking at you with those tentacles. They must be extremely strong - they even tore through your suit."

The First just stared at him in astonishment, and he continued. "Afterwards, they departed. Neither of us know where they went... right?" He gave the Third a questioning look, and the latter's claws were clicked twice.

"And I was so sure that I was making progress!" The First exhaled slowly, in what could easily be considered a sigh. "It even said that it would help us!"

The others didn't know what to say, and he wasn't quite sure what to do next. The experience had been discouraging - but he was hardly defeated. Actually, he noted, he felt much stronger and more vigorous than ever. "We need to decide on a course of action. Input?"

"First..." The Second "sighed", and it was plain to see that he did not share the other's enthusiasm. "This situation is completely hopeless. We are deprived of additional sources of air and nutrients, and will shortly die. All attempts at resolving the situation have met with failure."

The Third protested. "The Talent will come back for us. He will not permit our deaths."

"Oh, will he now? What if he deliberately abandoned us?"

Both of the others were taken aback by the suggestion, but the Third seemed downright shocked. "Unthinkable! That is a primitive, ancient practice... it is no longer done!"

"Actually," The First suggested, "he might be right. Perhaps we WERE left here to die. The Talent, or whomever was responsible, may not have equated it with murder."

"Placing us in a situation where we will inevitably die does not equal murder?" The Second scoffed at this. "A feeble rationalization."

"Correct, but being incapable of properly justifying their actions they may have settled on that. Or, we may simply be dealing with a case of squeamishness." The First began pacing. "Assuming that you're right, who could have ordered it? And why?"

All three pondered this for a few moments, the First pacing while the others assumed a crowch-sitting position. Eventually, the Third spoke up. "The gene traders, perhaps?"

Another scornful look from the Second. The First wondered if perhaps discounting other people's ideas was an attempt to feel less helpless. "Why on Homeworld would they possibly want to do such a thing?"

"No, I mean the black market gene traders. The ones who actually kidnap inferiors." Now that was a different realm altogether. "I showed you the reports earlier; they've been trying to infiltrate the upper levels of the corporate and political structures. What if they've been worming their way into ours?"

The First spoke up. "If they'd reviewed our psychological files, they would have known that we would never permit such a thing. And since we're nearly at the top of the local hierarchy, they couldn't work around us for long..."

"The Primary Triad must be in on it, too. I knew this expedition was a horrible idea!" The Third shuddered.

The Second folded his arms. "First, is this endless hypothesizing your way of trying to keep our minds off of our dilemma? Because it's not working. Assuming that my assertion about our being left here was correct," and he placed the emphasis on 'my', "it really doesn't matter who's responsible. We're going to die here, and no amount of pointless busywork will change that."

"It is hardly pointless, but I'll wait until later to debate that." The First matched the Second's stance, and returned his gaze. "If there is any way - any way at all - that we can survive this, I intend to discover it. I'll not be remembered by future expeditions as the incompetent moron who let his triad die within reach of supplies."

"Oh, really?" The Second lifted a claw to gesture at their surroundings. "Now, you might be hallucinating after your little attempt at communicating with a fungus, but I certainly don't see anything of use."

Metallic claws grated in irritation. "SHE wanted to talk to ME. The first time, anyway. But that's not the point!" He began pacing again. "There may be ample resources nearby. We just have to find them. For instance... if we can find a deposit of underground water, that fulfills one basic need right there. A little electrolysis, and we'll have air, too."

"In case you haven't noticed, we're quite some distance from this planet's primary." He gestured at the distant sun, just now beginning to sink below the horizon as part of the planet's lengthy day/night cycle. "Any water we managed to dig up would freeze. And I do not know how you could possibly have even conceived of electrolyzing it! We hardly have the proper equipment."

The First stopped pacing, and turned to face the other two. "We might. Third: Begin scanning the area for underground water, frozen or not. Try to figure out how to incorporate it into our suits' supplies. Second: Review the data from the nanites we were probing the fungus with. Analyze it, and see if any of it is useful; we may even try to eat the fungus, if we survive long enough to worry about that. And once he," he indicated the Third, "finds some water, put the nanites to work figuring out how to electrolyze and store it."

The Third clicked his claws and was off, and the Second came as close as a Cocytan can be expected to come to frowning. "I can analyze the scientific data, but I know little about programming nanites. You know that."

"Then now's an excellent time for you to learn. Trial and error may be slower instructors than direct neural resequencing, but unless you really want to throw our chances away I should think that desperation will prompt some amount of expedience on your part. Now get going!"

Arms were folded again. "And what, pray tell, are you going to be doing?"

The First sighed. "I suppose I'll join you in analyzing the data. I just have the impression, somehow, that it - she, the fungus, whatever - is very important."

"It's the planet's most unusual feature."

Now THERE was something they both agreed upon.

***

Hours passed, or a little over a hundred millicycles in their terminology. By their timekeeping system it was late evening, but somebody seemed to have forgotten to tell the planet; it was nighttime, and each member of the triad had his arm-mounted light on as they conferred.

The First spoke before the others, as befit his designation. "The Second and I have managed to uncover a bit of data about the fungus." He gestured at the towering mass, some hundred feet distant and barely visible in the darkness. "For one thing, it is much larger than it appears. The visible parts only comprise a hundredth of its total structure; perhaps less."

The Second continued. "Its tendrils cover the entire area underground for thousands of units of distance in all directions. There may even be a planet-wide network. But," and he somehow managed to look even more impatient than normal, "that is hardly of any importance if you haven't met with success, Third."

The one so addressed looked so discouraged that a human might have thought that he was about to cry. "There is no underground water - anywhere. That fungus of yours probably drank it already, or something."

"Could we extract water from it, then?", the First queried.

"Not with the equipment we have," the Second responded. "And before you go into another tirade about nanite programming, I might remind you of how little success I had with it earlier today. Not to mention that those parasites probably wouldn't like the idea." He folded his arms, and the Third assumed the closest possible equivalent to a seated position on the ground.

The First grated his claws. "You can hardly blame me for trying. Perhaps I thought that the attempt would be a more worthwhile method of spending time than aimlessly cowering." He indicated the Third, who seemed to shrink even more under the scrutiny. "How much time do we have left?"

The Second checked an indicator. "It should vary somewhat between suits, but I'd give us until tomorrow morning, Homeworld reckoning."

"Good. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go look around for a while." And with that, he stomped off. There was nary a protest about breaking procedure; no real reason for them to stay together now.

Several minutes passed in silence. He actually found the solitude refreshing. Maybe that was what it was like being a Talent, he wondered; no triadmates breathing down one's neck. And complaining, and discounting his solutions... the thoughts prompted some amount of anger on his part, and he stopped to permit himself to calm down.

Not that his solutions really did them any good anyway, he thought. But he was still satisfied that he had at least tried. What WAS it with some people? Or most of them, for that matter? It seemed like any time they ran into an unaccounted-for difficulty, or something that seemed beyond their technology and capabilities, they would just give up.

At times like this, he admired the inferiors for their willpower if not their intellect.

The darkness was almost tangible. The planet had no moons, and the stars refused to illuminate its surface to any particularly great degree. Some of them even seemed to have disappeared. Wait a minute - that couldn't be right.

But it was, and the patch of blackness was growing larger. What could cause that? Probably some object blocking his view, he surmised. Out of curiosity, he approached it.

Shining his light on the object from a distance, he was able to distinguish its features; it was a large rock of roughly spherical form. Perhaps it was rolling towards him; the ground was vibrating heavily.

He shone his light at the base of the rock. There were several dozen members of his own race, carrying it on their exposed backs. No vacuum suits whatsoever...

He passed out.

***

*are you happy now*

What?

*i SAID. are you happy NOW?*

Why would I be? Now what's going on? I am very confused.

*do NOT be confused. it is a SIMPLE thing. i have LOCATED your spacecraft.*

...?

*it did NOT want to come. so i had to HURT it a little bit. thats why it LOOKS like an inert object now. (your DESIGNS are very silly, i LIKE your spaceships so much better when they LOOK like crystals) but your FUNNY nanomachines should be able to fix it.*

You're using complex sentences and talking about starships. Ours, no less! How?

*i ALREADY said. i do not WANT to be empty. i want to PLEASE you. i TRIED to absorb information. but my CHILDREN are so much better at that. they absorb LOTS of information. and then they TELL me about it.*

Children? I am still very confused...

*you have MET them already. they ASSUMED your form. they BROUGHT you your spacecraft. (this is not difficult to understand)*

Please pardon my slow thinking... are you referring to those parasites?

*they are NOT parasites!*

But we found someone on a probe. He had one of those things embedded in him.

*HE was an extension of one of my children. it COPIED another entity's genetic structure. those others were HARMING me. and TAKING my children. i had to HURT them a little too. anyway. i had ACQUIRED the probe earlier. (it was in orbit, before) he OBVIOUSLY took it to your planet. he SHOULD have kept it here. i do not think he even KNEW your language.*

I think I'm beginning to catch on now... but how could they operate in a vacuum? And, more importantly, who was there to copy before we got here?

*they CHANGE genetic patterns a little. it is so much EASIER that way. and he COPIED-*

Part Four

----------

The Third was standing over him, nudging him gently. Probably trying to get him to wake up, he thought. In response he forced himself into a crowch-sitting position, stretching somewhat. He became instantly worried when he realized that the other wasn't wearing a helmet, but then he saw that they were back inside the spacecraft. The room they were in was made from a bluish crystal, and transparent on either end; an airlock, he remembered. Probably they didn't want to drag him any further.

"You were talking with that fungus again, weren't you?" The Third sounded amused.

"Well... yes, I suppose. If you can call it talking." He stretched again as he stood up.

"Did it say anything useful?"

"Why do you ask? What's going on?"

A glance at the door behind himself, the area beyond distorted by its not-quite-transparent crystal. "We have our ship back. Well, sort of. The Talent locked himself in the control room. The Second is trying to get the door open and have the nanites fix the place; it seems to have taken some heavy damage." Goodness. He'd hate to be on the fungus' bad side.

He filled the Third in on what he had learned as they both removed their suits and entered the ship's central chamber. The Second was visible across the huge room, playing with a door's controls.

A look of understanding could be seen in the Third's eyes. "Now this all makes more sense. I was thinking that those people outside had maybe modified themselves for photosynthesis or something; I'm not quite sure."

They walked across the brownish, cube-shaped chamber. "But what could they have copied? Other than me, that is."

"Well, as long as we're assuming that the black-market gene traders wanted us killed, we can always assume that they visited the planet before us."

He clicked his left claw in the air several times as they reached the Second's position. The other seemed to be having quite a difficult time with the controls. "Yes, perhaps. They may have even tried to capture some of those parasites, or whatever they are; I believe the fungus, or whatever, was even talking about that. Instant cloning - think of it!"

The Second looked up at them. "I certainly hope the two of you are having a very fruitful conversation, because it's not helping me any." He sounded annoyed.

"Well, what assistance do you require?"

He fluttered his wings and half-shrugged as he returned to his task. "None, really. But you're being very distracting."

And so, they watched in silence as the Second worked, until finally the door seemed to split along several irregular seams and then simply disappear. "There," he proclaimed as he set his tools aside. "Now we shall be having a bit of a word with this Talent, right, First?"

But the First was already peering into the control room, dismay evident in his face and wings. "He's gone."

Both of the others spoke at the same time. "How?"

He put his claws in the air in an almost human gesture of helplessness. "I don't know! Perhaps a portable warper?"

The Third groaned. "These traders are much better equipped than we are."

"In case we can't tell," the Second retorted, no small amount of derision in his tone.

"But where did he warp to?" The Third sounded puzzled.

The First peered at one of the room's flat display crystals. "A spacecraft is lifting off from the planet, several hundred units away from here."

The Third moved to his side and read the displays. "A very BIG spacecraft."

The Second did the same, on his other side. "Quite right," he affirmed simply, eyes wide.

There was a short pause as the First considered things. Why were they leaving? Likely, either they'd gotten what they came for or they had been forced into retreat by the fungus.

What could they do about the matter? Return to the homeworld? That would probably give quite a shock to the people that had tried to kill them. It was the safest option, as well. But he wasn't in the mood for picking "safe" options. "Second. Have the nanites finished their repairs?"

The one so addressed checked a display. "It looks like it."

"Good. Take the controls and have us follow that ship, stealth mode engaged."

Now, the other's eyes were even wider. "You're kidding."

"I am not."

"First..." The Third began protesting, somewhat timidly. "They could destroy us a dozen times over. I don't think it's a good idea."

"I could hardly care less." The First settled himself into an indentation in the floor, next to the command pedestal. Despite the coldness of the floor, it was oddly comfortable. "Those heinous idiots tried to kill us. By all rights, we should already be dead. What possible aversion could you have to risk-taking at this point? Besides, if you do your jobs well enough they shouldn't ever detect us in the first place."

He watched the other two obediently carry out their instructions. Power was certainly a wonderful feeling, and it was only amplified by his energy and vigor; for that matter, he was much more enthusiastic than he could ever remember being. And assertive, he noted with pleasure. That certainly put him several steps ahead of his argumentative Second and wishy-washy Third.

What had caused the psychological change? His conversations with the fungus? He certainly didn't think so; they had confused him, more than anything else. Perhaps the life crystal - yes, that was probably it! Whatever those nanites had done when they healed him, they had left him positively invigorated. There shouldn't be any harm in using another crystal when he had the opportunity.

***

The three also recorded a few important data about the planet they had been to. Undoubtedly, future Cocytan explorers would find it very fascinating.

It's too bad, then, that after the events that the Second Triad would be caught up in they would forget to deliver the information. No more expeditions were sent until the early twenty-second century. And so, the Mimics were left to their own devices as their fledgling civilization developed. As Cocytan genetic patterns were distributed across the entire, planetary fungal network, and millions assumed the new forms. As the planet itself moved closer to its sun, ice caps melting to increase atmospheric pressure and provide surface water. As crystalline cities were erected on the new continents...

Future generations, having the trademark Cocytan scientific rationality completely imprinted on their minds, would attempt to probe the strange fungus that was their precursor. It was a quasi-sentient, biotechnological network, they would discover, and was obviously constructed. But by whom, and for what purpose, remained unknown. Perhaps it was a terraforming organism. Or perhaps it was intended as an antidote to the ter'byum; where the silicon-based infestation consumed life, this fungus encouraged it to proliferate.

Some of them were contacted by this network every now and then. It always wanted someone to "talk" to; seemed pretty lonely, as many would conclude. It would indicate that it could sense others of its kind elsewhere in the stars, but always frustratingly distant.

Perhaps it wanted to contact them. Or maybe it was just acting on its programming. Either way, several dozen of its spore-filled "seeds" were attached to the Second Triad's spacecraft prior to their departure.

*** 2100 AD ***

The spacecraft they were pursuing ended up departing the system altogether, bound for Delta Pavonis; nearly twenty light-years distant. The three subjected themselves to suspended animation for the duration of the trip.

Their brains frozen and unable to process data of any kind, they were completely oblivious to the passage of time. It was as if they had simply gone to sleep, and then instantly awakened.

And when they awakened, they were highly displeased to find their spacecraft severely damaged and entering the gravity well of a nearby planet.

--The End of the first story--


End file.
